Hair
by Novatierrie
Summary: Envy didn't like many things...but there were only a few that he absolutely hated. BBI, Envy & Pride, rated for language.


Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me, it belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, BONES, Square-Enix, Funimation, and any number of other companies/individuals. I am not profiting from this work of fanfiction.

Warnings: Foul language.

Pairing: Envy/Pride!Ed, Envy/Ed, both implied but not explicit, can be taken for quite thoroughly twisted gen.

* * *

Envy fucking _hated_ Pride's hair. Then again, he supposed, he didn't like much at all about his dear...little _brother_. The way the newest sin looked at him, with that perfectly _blank_ face, even on those rare occasions when Envy lost himself and struck out, always forgiving, like a fucking kicked puppy who didn't know to bite back. Didn't realize he _could_ bite back. 

It was boring, but most of all, it was _sickening_. The closest Envy could get to being physically ill was when he was around Pride, when those hollow eyes were watching him, _worshipping_ him, he was the younger's fucking _idol_ and he hated it. He wanted to make Pride fear him, hate him, curse his name, but most of all, he just wanted him to _react_. He hated Pride's ability to if not forgive, ignore all that Envy did to him.

But, above all, he hated that damn mane of golden hair, the sun-child's hair, so unbefitting the dead thing he now was. There was nothing left of the Fullmetal Alchemist within Pride, but the outside was a painful reminder of that hated person, Hohenheim's golden child, the one who had stolen his life...and he had to see it Every. Fucking. Day.

The hair would have to be the first thing to go, and Pride didn't protest at all when Envy threw him against the wall. He didn't make a sound when Envy came at him with the dull, decorative dagger, didn't so much as bat an eyelash when the sheath went skittering across the stone floor. The space between them was closed in the space of a heartbeat, and Envy had Pride's hair in his fist a split-second later, yanking it back, and Pride's head with it.

"Don't move," Envy growled, but the command was unnecessary, Pride wouldn't so much as twitch a pinky if Envy didn't tell him to, he knew better than to question when the elder homunculus was in one of Those Moods.

The blade flashed as Envy brought it up, and then the blade was buried into that golden hair, sawing furiously at the strands. The thing wasn't even fit to cut paper, much less hair, but Envy persisted, the severed locks slithering down Pride's shoulders to coil on the ground.

Once Envy was done with him, Pride looked like he had gotten into an argument with a pair of scissors (or a blunt knife,) and had come out the loser of the altercation. Some chunks were cut close to the scalp, one savage slash had even split it, spilling blood into what did remain of his hair. Other sections were much longer, where Envy had given up in frustration.

Envy gripped Pride's shoulder, digging claw-like fingernails into his skin in a haze of anger and something _else_, something that made Envy distinctly uncomfortable, which mutated into more anger as he drew breath. Pride whined a bit, the only protest that had escaped his lips during the entire thing.

"Shut up," Envy snarled, shoving his _darling_ little brother away. Pride stumbled, but kept his balance, as his sluggishly bleeding wounds closed with small flashes of alchemical light...

...and that damn hair...That damn fucking hair grew _back_, as long and thick and gold as ever.

"Pride..."

"...yes, Brother?"

Brother, brother, _brother_, he wasn't Pride's fucking BROTHER, and nothing Envy could say would convince Pride otherwise, he always called him brother in that fucking adoring tone of voice, and it made Envy sick.

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Sorry, Bro...En...vy..." Pride looked lost, as if the word 'brother' was his guiding light and salvation, and as if by applying it to Envy, he was turned into the center of the world.

That was, essentially, how Pride's mind worked. Envy was his Brother, simple as that, and due to his station, held special sway over Pride's reality and everything in it.

"Get out."

And Pride scurried to obey, not even realizing that it was his room he was being kicked out of, or if he did, not caring in the wake of Brother's Word.

Envy watched until the last strand of that damn hair slipped out of sight; then knelt to sweep up the pile of it left on the floor, taking the silky strands into his hair and lifting it to his face.

It didn't even _smell_ like Fullmetal anymore...warm sun, steel, ozone...it was nothing. It was Pride.

Envy threw the stuff back down to the floor and silently vowed to cut that hair off again tomorrow, and the next day, and after that, until it fucking well _stayed_ short.

No matter how long it took.


End file.
